


Quickie

by Laura_Mayfair



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Armistice Station, F/M, Ficlet, Prompt Fic, bsg-kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Mayfair/pseuds/Laura_Mayfair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet.  Adar and Roslin in the Armistice Station.  Inspired by bsg-kink prompt for Cylons or Cylon locations, Armistice Station.  Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quickie

  
  
The tap of Laura’s heels and the heavier sound of Adar’s shoes reverberated loudly in the abandoned corridor of the Armistice station as they walked through the wide space. Laura picked up a half-faded Cylon schematic from the desk and showed it to her companion.  
  
“It doesn’t seem like that long ago, does it?” she asked. Her voice was solemn.  
  
He put his hand over hers, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “They’re not coming back.”  
  
Laura tilted her head to the side, considering. “And is this based on personal speculation or actual intel?”  
  
He sat down on the edge of the desk and drew her against his lap, resting his lips against her neck as he answered. “Both.” He kissed behind her ear and nuzzled her neck, enjoying the scent of her, a mixture of perfume, brand new fabric, and a faint hint of lily-of-the-valley from the soap that she used.  
  
“Mr. President, there are five armed guards just outside, your chief of staff, your military advisor, and –“  
  
He slid a hand over her knee and barely brushed two fingertips upward against her inner thigh.  
  
“They have orders.” His voice was confident, unworried. His hands grew more insistent, and when he felt the quick, involuntary shudder of her body against his, he was instantly hard. “I could give _you_ an order or two, Madame Secretary,” he teased.  
  
She decided to play the game. “Orders that I doubt I could follow in good conscience,” she mused.  
  
“Utmost good faith is enough.” He unbuttoned the first couple of buttons of her red silk blouse, skimming his hands over her breasts, over the lace and silk of her bra. “I’ve wanted to frak you since the minute you stepped onto the ship this morning."  
  
Her voice was cool, disinterested. “That long?” Her ass, in contrast, pressed very deliberately against his groin.  
  
Richard wanted to devour her.  
  
His hands plotted an eager course down the front of her body, slipping under her skirt, rubbing her through the fabric of her panties. Her breath caught, a quick, sharp inhalation.  
  
The president stood up and whispered two staccato words in her ear. “Bend over.”  
  
She turned her head slightly just before complying, knowing full well what effect a mere glance could have on him. He pulled her underwear down and lifted up her skirt. There was the metallic flicker of a belt being unbuckled, the whoosh of a zipper being pulled down. His hand was on her hip and his mouth sucked hungrily on the soft skin of her neck as he eased inside her.  
  
His movements were slow out of necessity. Everything echoed in the large space of the station. Hands gripping the edge of the desk for leverage, Laura bit back her cry when she came while Richard managed to keep the sound of his own climax to a low grunt.  
  
In the space of minutes, they had straightened their clothing, picked up their files and reports, and returned to _Colonial One._


End file.
